


There Ain't a Victoria's Secret in Space

by dearqueer (plushrump)



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, cross-dressing, i just wanted luke in panties okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5854861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plushrump/pseuds/dearqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>luke rides han in the cockpit in a skirt and panties. thats all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Ain't a Victoria's Secret in Space

**Author's Note:**

> this is nearly 2k of unedited sin at 4am. id like to thank not only god but jesus christ

Han Solo has never hated anything in his life more than Corellian rum.

Alright, he concedes that maybe he’s never hated anything in his life more than Corellian rum _right now_ , but the point still stands. This alcohol is ruining his entire life. Which Han Solo thinks is kind of ironic since he was the one who had insisted on drinking the damn thing anyways.

He hadn’t even meant to purchase it- a trade deal gone sour had led to a case of the near 190 proof alcohol getting thrown in extra with rest of his bounty. Usually he wouldn’t accept such an obvious bribe (home planet or not), but he hadn’t had such strong shit on the ship in ages and it’s been a good while since he and Chewie got well and truly wasted. Unfortunately, the same day he got his hands on it ended being the same day he picked up the snot-nosed brat and his grandpa.

Not that he was complaining. Han had wanted to fuck Luke Skywalker since the minute he sat across the table from him. The kid was cute, in a virginal farm-boy sort of way. He looked drowned in his overlarge tunic, but Han could catch glimpses of toned, tanned skin that gave hint to years of hard manual labor. There was a shadow of buck teeth between pink and pouty lips that Han found adorable as hell and made him want to lean in and kiss that pout away. And this kid’s eyes- big baby blues that made Han weak in the knees.

Oh, yeah. Han wanted Luke real bad.

Unfortunately, this meant the alcohol sat in the back of the storage room lonely and untouched.

Until today.

It was only a couple days into their trip when Han had concocted his genius plan to Fuck Luke Skywalker (which he dubbed in his head “Operation Fuck Luke Skywalker”, which wasn’t creative, but was to the point). Remembering the alcohol stored in the back, he’d suggested a game of drinking with Luke. It was a simple concept: He would name something he was into, and then Luke would return the favor. He figured they would have a couple shots, the kid wouldn’t be able to hold his liquor, and then he’d seduce him well and good.

 What he was _not_ expecting was that Luke would handle his liquor a lot better than he thought. What he was not expecting was for Luke to wheedle out of him half his kinks, and what he was not expecting was to be in the situation he is in now.

Which happens to be Luke Skywalker waltzing around in the cockpit, talking to Han Solo like everything was completely normal and fine when everything was not completely normal and fine because Luke was in the shortest skirt imaginable. It was a flimsy, white little thing that barely contained Luke’s ass.

“So, as I was saying, can I watch you fly for a while?” Luke grins, and his face is the epitome of innocence.

Han’s mouth feels dry. He tries to force himself back to reality. A reality where Luke wasn’t adjusting his skirt as if he wore one all the time.

“I don’t care, kid.” Han says, too proud of how under control his voice sounded. “Just don’t touch anything.”

He was not gonna let some fresh-off-the-block teenager get the better of him.

Luke frowns for a moment, and then his face lights up again. He leans over Han a bit, hiking his skirt up in the process and- _sweet gods_ is that lace?

“Is this seat taken?” Luke gestures to his lap.

Okay, fuck it. He’s definitely gonna let some fresh-off-the-block teenager get the better of him.

Han leans back in his seat and flicks a button on the roof of the ship to send it into auto-pilot so he wouldn’t send them both hurtling into an astroid. In one swift motion, he grabs Luke around the waist and sends him tumbling awkwardly forward into his lap.

Happy and with a lapful of blonde, Han grins lopsidedly. “It is now.”

Luke bites his bottom lip, obviously trying to keep from grinning and adjusts himself so his legs are spread to either side of Han’s lap.

“Oh?”

Han lets his hands drop to Luke’s thighs, skirting his hands to where they just meet the edge of the skirt and then back down again to Luke’s knees again.

“Is this all for me?” asks Han, teasing.

Luke’s smile becomes flirtatious, and a little more confident. Han finds it unreasonably sexy. “Maybe.” He says lightly.

Han hums and allowed his hands to pass along under the edges of the skirt, coming to rest on the swell of Luke’s ass and- _stars yes_ that _is_ lace. He runs his thumbs to the front of Luke’s waist so that he has a solid grip on Luke’s hips and shifts the skirt up a bit and what he sees what is definitely a lot of lace.

Luke’s cock is pressing up against the thin lace of his panties, leaving a wet stain on the dark fabric where he was starting to leak through with pre-come. Han’s mouth salivates a little.  

A hand leaves Luke’s waist to grab his hair and yank him into a hot and heavy kiss. Luke’s mouth opens for him almost instantly with a little breathy moan, and Han takes the opportunity to explore every inch of Luke’s mouth. They’re tongues slide together, and Han shivers with the sensation of it, tilting Lukes’s head back to kiss him deeper. Gasping for air, Luke breaks apart the kiss and Han instead shifts to lick down his jaw. Luke tilts his head to the side to give Han more space and Han takes advantage of the extra room to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to Luke’s collarbone.

Luke lets out a high-pitched moan as Han finds and sucks at the hollow of his throat. Luke gives a little, tentative thrust forward against Han’s thigh. Hells, the kid is so damn _responsive._

“Fuck” Han breathes into his neck “You’re going to kill me, kid.”

Luke whines in response and grapples at Han’s back, trying to push him closer, to go faster, to do anything. Han huffs and lets his hands travel up the front of Luke’s shirt, trailing along the smooth expanse of chest. The skin feels warm and damp with the sheen of sweet under his palms and Luke fidgets in response. His thumb finds one hard nipple, and Han swirls the pad of his finger over it until it’s a stiff peak.

In a frenzied motion, Luke grabs at Han’s belt and Han presses a hand on Luke’s chest to back him up so he can lift his hips up and pull down his pants around his knees. The pressure in Han’s groin is relieved a bit as his erection finally springs free from the tight confines of his pants. Han gives his cock a few preemptory pumps, eyes half-lidded and glued to the faint outline of Luke’s dick pressing against thin lace. Luke takes the opportunity to yank off Han’s vest and his shirt over his head.

A thought occurs to Han.

“Kid,” he orders “reach into that little glove compartment behind you.”

“Luke” he corrects absentmindedly, but otherwise reaches behind him and pops open the drawer. “What am I looking for?”

Han tells him to look for a little clear bottle and Luke sorts around before brandishing the lube with a “this?”. Han grabs the bottle and tells him to turn around and brace himself on the edge of the control deck, ass facing him.

Luke complies and Han suddenly has a face full of panty-clad ass and he has to take a second to calm himself down before he comes on the spot like a damn teenager. Han splays his hand on the inside of Luke’s thigh to spread his legs apart farther and Luke shivers. He hooks one finger behind the fabric and slowly pulls it down to reveal Luke’s, admittedly cute, ass until the fabric is taut around Luke’s thighs.

Han takes his time fingering Luke, letting him adjusted to the feel of each finger before adding the next one. Finally, Han finger brushes along a little bundle of nerves and Luke gasps and bucks back against Han’s hand. Han can’t get over how damn _sensitive_ he is. Soon, Luke is panting and pressing himself back against Han’s fingers and Han decides he’s ready. Luke whines high and thin when he removes his fingers and wipes them on Luke’s skirt. He slides Luke’s panties down to his knees and slowly coaxes him back down against his lap so he’s lined up with the head of Han’s cock.

Han’s head hits the back of the chair hard when he watches himself start to push inside Luke.

The pace is torturously slow, and Han feels like he’s going to combust. He digs his nails into his palms to keeps himself from grabbing Luke around the waist and  just forcing him down on his cock. He wants this to be as good for Luke as Luke’s been for him. “Yeah, baby, just like that.” Han whispers into his ear hoarsely.

It feels like an hour before Luke finally sinks to rest all the way against his lap and Luke is so tight and hot and when Han looks down at Luke buried to the hilt on his dick and black panties stretched around his knees he knows for a fact he’s gonna last long.

Gripping Luke’s thighs hard, he waits for Luke to raise up a couple experimental inches and then fall back down and _gods yeah_ he’s not gonna last long at all.

Luke does a couple more shallow thrusts of his hips and Han’s already losing control, rolling his hips upward to match Luke’s thrusts and setting a quick and shallow rhythm. Luke’s head falls back on Han’s shoulder and Han lavishes his neck with kisses and little words of praise of “fuck, yeah” and “baby” and “right there”.

Luke’s hips start to stutter and lose their rhythm. Han is overwhelmed thinks about how Luke is gonna come without Han even touching his cock and then he’s seeing white and he feels Luke clench around him and his soft cry of Luke’s name is lost by Luke practically fucking _screaming_.

They sit there for a couple seconds, Luke’s chest heaving and covered in cooling come and Han still trying to catch his breath. He lays a quick kiss to the stop of Luke’s head and swears he can feel him smile.

Luke is the first one to break the silence.

“So, you like the skirt, then?” He asks, like he didn’t just rock Han’s entire world.

Han laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, kid” he says “I _love_ the skirt.”

 


End file.
